dip dyed tips

anonymous asked:

idk how many requests you have but, filipina Roxy with a large wide nose and plump lips and her hair dark blonde/light brown with pink dip dyed tips?? I hope that isn't too specific. even if you don't have time to do my request, thanks for all your other art! It's so well done. (also your roxy headcanon is pretty awesome too)

Leaving You: Dan Howell

warnings: language, feels

As I climbed the familiar stairs up to Dan’s flat, memories flushed into my mind’s eye. An image of Dan and I’s first kiss at the door, and our last in the same place. Another memory of us running up the stairs, stealing kisses, and he pushes me against the wall and kisses me because we couldn’t wait another second without each other’s touch. A memory of us running down the stairs because we slept in–yet again–too content in each other’s arms to get out of bed. Finally, the memory of him chasing after me when I left that early morning in May. All those memories, just in a staircase. I can still hear him screaming my name, chasing me.

-3 months earlier-

“(Y/N)? What are you doing?” Dan said in his morning voice. I was dressed in my rain jacket, the hood pulled over my eyes. I looked back at him. His hair was pushed out of his face from a night’s sleep and his eyebrows were drawn together in confusion.

“I’m leaving.” I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek.

“What?” he said, taking a step towards me.

“I’m leaving for a while…” I said. I would say more, but there is nothing left to say.

“You leaving me?”

With a lump in my throat and my stomach in ropes, I choked out, “Yes.”

“Where will you go?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice shaking as well. I watched him. He shifted his weight from one leg to another and brought his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. The cloudy, morning light casted a blue and shadowed atmosphere in the flat.

“Why are you doing this? We were fine, we were happy.” He said, trying to pull the logic out of this crazy mess.

I turned to him, my tear-filled eyes reflecting the same, “Bullshit.”

He flinched when I spoke in the harsh tone, but he remained silent.

I elaborated, “Dan, I’m not happy. This city, my job, I feel trapped and I don’t know what to do. I mean, I’m going nowhere! I have no idea what I want to do, what I want to be! I just…need to get out of here.” I said, turning around. Dan grabbed my arm before I could go.

“Would about us?” he whispered.

As more tears fell from my eyes, I shook his arm off me. “Dan, I love you, but I need to do this. If you are here when I get back, great. If not…”I started, but shook my head, unable to finish the thought. “I need this.”

He backed away from me, tears spilling from his swollen eyes. “You’re really doing this.” He said softly. I remained watching him, unable to guess how he will react. He shook his head and curled his fingers into a fist.

“(Y/N), if you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.” He said, turning his back to me. In that moment, I felt my stomach twist into knots, and my throat nearly come out of my mouth. I pulled my hand up to cover my lips as a sob escaped.

I watched him raise his head and roll his shoulders back, as he walked back down the hallway into his bedroom. And with that, I unclip the small diamond necklace he gave me for my last birthday, and I laid it on a small table near the door. With one last look around his flat, I ran down the stairs and out into the morning rain, the distant sounds of Dan’s voice calling me as I got into a cab.

-Present-

Weakly, my hand raises to knock on his door. I hear footsteps, and I nearly feel the need to vomit from how nervous I was.

“Hold on,” I hear him say. Wow, I thought. That’s him. It’s Dan. Suddenly, an overwhelming and horrific thought came to mind: It’s Dan. In a split second, I race back down the stairs, but not until the door opens. I couldn’t make myself turn around to see him. I couldn’t look him in the eye. It’s been three months.

“Um, hello?” he asks, unknowing of who it is. I slowly turn around to face him. He looks the same, but he lacks the sparkle in his eye he had before. Not that I haven’t been watching his videos when I can, but it’s good to see him again—actually see him. I watch his face change from confusion to recognition. His eyebrows rise and his face flushes, his eyes widen and his mouth parts. Speechless, I look up at him from the small landing down the stairs from his door.

“(Y/N). You’re back.”

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